Under the Moon (Goddesses Rising)

Chapter Seventeen

Romantic relationships are more complicated when one of the partners is a goddess. It takes a strong man to adapt to the extraordinary abilities of women like us, and we face the difficulty of discerning whether they want us for who we are, or for what we can do.

—Society Annual Meeting, Special Session on Relationships

…



The hotel room was silent when Quinn left the next morning for her hearing at the Society. Nick hadn’t moved the entire time she showered and dressed. He slept heavily, clearly as exhausted as Quinn had been. She’d slept a deep, healing sleep that settled the power into a slow churn inside its shield. Her rested body seemed to accommodate the foreign energy more willingly, her head clear, the overwhelming, biting lust sated.

The sitting room had been dark, Sam’s door stayed closed, and Quinn didn’t try to wake either of them to go with her to the hearing. She needed to get used to being on her own.

The cab let her off in front of the Society building ten minutes before nine. Alana led her to the conference room, where the board sat waiting for her.

“Before we begin,” Quinn said after Barbara had greeted her, “I’d like to know what happened to Marley.”

“She’s not being detained. We agreed that the leeching she endured is far more personal punishment than any we can exact. However, she is required to remain in Boston and work for the Society as an educator and counselor for the next two years. After that, she will be free to move on.”

Quinn nodded. It was a fair decision, and she believed Marley would embrace her role, to help ensure no other goddess fell into the trap she had.

“Shall we begin?” Barbara motioned for Quinn to sit. She didn’t want to, but after the fight with Anson and her night with Nick, she was sore and tired.

Barbara nodded at the vice president, who read off a sheet of parchment-like paper. “The purpose of this hearing is to clarify the events of November fifth relating to Anson Tournado and the goddess Quinn Caldwell. Alleged transgressions on the part of Ms. Caldwell include doing harm to non-powerful humans and draining of power from the opposite.” She set the paper down and looked at Quinn.

She swallowed and got her thoughts in order. “The harm to non-powerful humans was self-defense. They were armed and had attacked us before. They entered the premises—”

“Which premises were those?”

“An empty warehouse we’d found. I wanted a facility that would eliminate potential collateral damage, after Anson had penetrated hotel security and leeched Marley Canton in our suite.”

Barbara inclined her head. “We will take the self-defense argument under advisement. Please address the draining of power.”

“I watched Anson leech my sister, and I was powerless to stop it. I knew there was only one way to defeat him.” She remembered the despair when she’d almost failed, and rasped out, “I fully believe draining the power he’d stolen from those to whom it rightfully belongs was the only recourse available.”

After a moment of silence, Barbara asked, “Do you have anything to add?”

“No.”

“Do the members of the board have any further questions?”

They shook their heads.

“Alana will show you to my office. I’ll speak to you there after our deliberations.”

They all stood, and the door opened. Quinn followed Alana into the hall, relieved no one had thought—or been brave enough—to ask her what had happened to the power she’d taken from Anson.

Alana led Quinn down the hall to the president’s office, her demeanor stiff and awkward. When they sat in the guest chairs in front of the desk, the executive director folded her arms and wouldn’t meet Quinn’s eyes.

At first, Quinn didn’t understand the change from Alana’s earlier animosity. But then a possible reason came to her. “Does she know Anson got to you, too?”

It was a guess, and Quinn wasn’t sure what she’d do if Alana admitted he had, but the other woman scowled and tightened her arms against herself. “He didn’t get to me.”

Quinn raised her eyebrows.

“He tried,” she admitted. “And, well, yes, I liked him. But I never gave him anything.”

The way she said it made Quinn narrow her eyes. “So he took it.”

Alana jerked a nod.

“The database? He got access. That’s how he targeted everyone.”

“Yes,” Alana said. “And believe me, it haunts me.”

Quinn nodded, understanding. It would haunt all of them for a long time. “So Barbara plans to talk to me in here? Why not call me back to the conference room?”

“I think they made their decision before you came in. They just need to confirm it.”

Quinn would be upset if she didn’t think it was going to go in her favor. “What does she want?”

“I don’t know.”

The tall door opened and Barbara entered. “Thank you for waiting, Quinn. Alana, you can go back to work.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Alana left, and Barbara circled her desk to sit with a sigh.

“Quite a month we’ve had.”

“Yes.”

“I’m sure you can tell the board has decided not to sanction or punish you for crossing the line. I’m sorry to put you through that, but we have to follow procedure.” She sighed and looked very tired and very old. “This has been a horribly trying situation, I don’t need to tell you, and I’m afraid it’s not going to be the last.”

Quinn frowned. “What do you mean?”

“The mainstream media is digging at the story, at the rumor that goddess power is transferrable. Half of them are taking a skeptical approach, which won’t cast goddesses in a positive light but will help suppress the truth. If the half who are treating it seriously prevail, however, it’s possible others will try to take power.”

“But they can’t just take it,” Quinn protested. “It doesn’t work like that.”

Barbara laughed, the sound more cynical than Quinn thought her capable. “That doesn’t matter. They’ll still try. The Protectorate is already working to increase its staff and alter its methods, as now in-power goddesses will be vulnerable, as well. The board will need to provide a whole new range of services for our members, from the educational programs Marley will start to a much larger, more effective security team.”

“It sounds like a good plan.” But the sentiment was hollow. Quinn no longer felt part of the board, or even the Society as a whole. Right now, she wasn’t sure she cared.

“I want you to consider running for president next year.”

“No way.” She didn’t hesitate. Politics had become her enemy, and she desperately wanted home. “You have a successor, anyway.” The vice president wasn’t as old or as experienced as Barbara, but she wasn’t incompetent.

“We need someone who’s been in the trenches, Quinn, who has experienced what’s out there and knows how to survive it. This is a new age. It needs a new leader.”

“It doesn’t have to be me.”

“But it should be. You’re now the most powerful goddess on earth.”

Quinn couldn’t suppress her shock. She wanted to protest but couldn’t bring herself to lie. The power of five other goddesses swirled and danced inside her, and though she hadn’t tried to use it, her old limitations didn’t seem to exist anymore.

Which meant her old needs didn’t exist anymore.

Yanking her thoughts away from that familiar yet way too new and raw pain, Quinn waited for Barbara to ask her about that power. How much she had now, how it manifested, what Quinn was going to do about it. But none of those questions seemed to even occur to the older woman. Uneasy as she was about hiding it, Quinn was too afraid of what they’d do to her if they had any inkling how foreign and dangerous it felt.

So she turned to the mundane and asked about the goddesses who’d helped Anson. “He said something about people wanting to be normal. Is that why they worked with him?”

Barbara sighed and nodded. “I’m afraid so. We were able to track them last night, after the team took Anson into custody. He’d promised them that if they did what he needed, he’d give them the way to live normal lives. That’s another aspect we’ll need to address in the counseling program. No goddess should ever feel she has to turn to outsiders like that.”

“No.” Quinn couldn’t imagine wanting to not be a goddess anymore. What had their lives been like, that they’d resorted to attacking other goddesses?

Barbara checked her watch and stood. “Please think about running for president,” she urged. “I know you have a business in Ohio, but it’s not like you’d start immediately. Jeannine will still serve her term next year, but we plan to change the structure of the board with new bylaws next spring, and pending the acceptance of the membership, you would be the ideal leadership for the new Society.”

Quinn agreed to consider it, but only to end the conversation. She had too much to do, too many other changes to adjust to, and the presidency would require more time and attention than she wanted to give right now. Maybe at some point in the future she could think about it.

When she emerged from the elevator in the lobby a few minutes later, Marley waited for her. She crossed the marble floor tentatively, wiping her hands on her jeans.

“How did it go?”

“Fine. No problems.” She studied her sister, taking note of the circles under her eerie eyes, her sallow complexion. Quinn understood now the soul-deep scars the leeching had left on her sister. “You okay? Get any sleep?”

“Not really. But it’s okay, I will. Did they tell you my punishment?”

“Yeah. It sounds like a good plan. You’ll be great at it.”

“I’m happy. Barbara seems determined to make changes, and I’m all for that.” She laughed, a hint of unease still apparent. “I have to start next week.”

“What will you do with the inn?”

She sighed. “Fran’s going to run it until I get home.” She took a deep breath. “Quinn, I have something to ask you.” Unease was an understatement now. Marley shoved her hands deep into her pockets, her shoulders rising to meet her ears. “It’s about Sam.”

Sorrow splintered in Quinn’s heart. “What about him?”

“What’s between you?”

Quinn thought about all the years of recharging, all the ways Sam made her life easier, both in the bar and with her other clients, and how much he meant to her, even now. She couldn’t explain something so complex. “He’s my assistant,” she finally said, as inadequate as the description was.

“You don’t have a…relationship with him?”

“I’m sorry. I can’t talk about this.” It hurt too much, knowing she was probably about to lose her best friend. She crossed the lobby toward the exit, her hand coming up to press against her chest, as if she could touch the pain there.

“Wait, Quinn.”

She sighed and stopped. Marley came around to face her. “When we were at the inn, after you left and he woke up, we talked a little. He said he might be looking for a new job. It would be great if he could come work for me for a while. But I want a relationship with you. If you feel like I’ve stolen him…”

“You couldn’t if you tried,” she said before she could stop herself, pain making her lash out. He’d made plans even before telling her he was going. “It’s Sam’s choice. If he wants to lea—to quit working for me and come to Boston, that’s for him to decide. I promise I won’t hold anything against you.” She cleared her throat. “I want a relationship with you, too.”

“Okay.” Marley stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Quinn, who hugged her back. “I’m so glad you found me,” Marley whispered. Quinn squeezed her tighter. Her sister had lost a lot but was already trying to rebuild her life.

The shield she’d maintained around the power inside her suddenly rent. The part of it that had been Marley’s seemed to recognize its origination, and it churned and surged, dragging with it the other powers, intertwined and irrevocably bound. The same headiness Quinn felt after pulling it from Anson made her sway, a euphoria climbing up through her.

Normally, with the full moon waning and moving away from her, using power would take considerable effort. But now, it was easier than it had ever been. The energy wanted to be used, and Quinn knew she could do anything she wanted to, with only a thought.

Almost anything.

She opened a conduit to her sister, attempting to bestow power back to her. But Marley was too damaged and couldn’t accept it. It rolled back into Quinn, shrinking from the dim grayness that was Marley’s capacity.

“It won’t work,” Marley choked out as she pulled away. “You’re generous to try, but I can’t take it.”

Generosity had little to do with it. Quinn didn’t want this. It was too dangerous, too damaging. “Why?”

“I want it. I crave it like a junkie.” The tears flowed down her face now. “But I’m like a cracked vase. I can’t hold it.”

It was an accurate description. Tears welled in Quinn’s eyes, too. “I’m sorry, Marley. I don’t want it. I’d do anything to transfer it.”

“No, you wouldn’t. It would do harm, and you won’t let that happen anymore.”

Marley was right. Maybe Quinn could force it, but if the vessel couldn’t hold it, if Marley couldn’t control it, she’d be even more broken, especially if Quinn couldn’t separate the energies and return only what was taken. She’d have to find out if all the goddesses were damaged the way Marley was, but even if they weren’t, would bestowing power back on them turn them into leeches? How could she research something that had never happened before?

It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t rest until she found a way to make everything right again.

“I’m sorry,” Quinn repeated.

“It’s okay. It’s my punishment.” Marley shrugged. “I have to accept that.” She squeezed her sister’s hand, then backed away. “Thanks for everything.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

“Me, too. I already intend to tap you for this educational program.” Marley sniffed and rubbed her face on her sleeve. “Take care of yourself.”

“You, too.”

Quinn went outside and hailed a cab, which promptly got caught in traffic. She closed her eyes and tried not to think, but that proved impossible.

She was on her way to end her life as she’d known it. In truth, it had ended the moment Nick showed up early and told her about the leech. Before that, even, when she and Sam stopped being lovers.

She had to let him go. Really, truly, completely go. Even if he’d resigned himself to not having her, she knew he couldn’t live his own life if he kept serving hers. It would kill her to fire him. She would if she had to, but she knew, deep down, that he wouldn’t make her.

Nick would leave, too. The power she held would always be there, strong enough to make her invulnerable. No matter what the new global reality was going to be, she would be one goddess who didn’t need a protector. And there were so many more Nick could help.

The cab rolled forward, but when Quinn opened her eyes she spotted a tiny park off to the right. A copse of trees called to her.

“Let me off here, please.”

When she entered the shade, everything else seemed to disappear. The traffic noise faded enough to sound like wind. A robin sang on a branch above her, and a real breeze caressed her face. She sank down on the plush grass, buried her face in her arms, and wept.

She sobbed for Jennifer and the goddess in South Carolina, for Tanda’s and Chloe’s losses and her inability to make things right, even if she’d brought them justice. She wept for Marley and the relationship that had been broken before they could even start building it. From there, it was easy to cry for her birth parents, who’d never wanted to know her, and her real parents, who’d died too young.

She sobbed for Sam and all he’d meant to her, and for Nick and everything he’d almost become.

When she was empty and could cry no more, the loneliness that had hovered over her for so long crept in, ready to fill the space. But she wasn’t going to let it. She’d wallowed in her longing for Nick, let things go too far with Sam, because it ruled her life after her parents died. It was long past time for her to grow up.

The sun had moved past its zenith when her phone rang. She stretched out on the grass and stared up through the trees, letting the rhythm of their sway soothe her rawness. On the fourth ring, right before it would have gone to voice mail, she answered.

It was Sam. Quinn’s eyes filled with tears again, and she cursed. She had to be stronger than this.

“We’re getting worried about you,” he said. “How did the hearing go?”

“Fine.” She told him about the board’s decision and Barbara’s request.

“Are you going to do it?”

“I don’t know yet.” She didn’t want to tell him about the power issue she had to deal with first. It wouldn’t be a clean break if he thought she still needed him, even if only for his research skills.

“It would give you a chance to work with Marley,” he pointed out.

“You talked to her, then.”

“Yeah, she called when they released her. She sounded okay. Sad. But strong.”

“She is strong.”

“It runs in the family.”

She listened to his breathing for a minute, taking every last drop of time she had with him.

“Are you coming back?”

“Soon.”

“I’ll meet you in the coffee shop. We need to talk.”

“Okay. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

She sighed and lay there for a while longer, not wanting to give up the minute peace of the trees and cool air. Resolve was a lot easier than action. But eventually, she struggled to her feet and trudged the few blocks to the hotel, finding Sam in the coffee shop, as he’d said.

He stood as she approached and enfolded her in his arms, resting his chin on top of her head. They stood like that for a while, and Quinn knew they were on the same page. It was a relief to know he was ready, that he wouldn’t argue, but it didn’t help repair the tear in her heart.

They sat, Sam not releasing her hand. “I think you know what I’m going to say.”

She drew a deep breath. “You’re resigning and moving to Boston. Marley needs an assistant, and you can’t work for me anymore.” Her voice broke at the end, belying the confidence she’d tried to project.

“I don’t want to leave you, Quinn. But last night—”

“Was too horrifying to bear?”

His lips curved. “Not exactly. But I know it wasn’t just taking care of a physical need.”

“Sam—”

“It’s okay, Quinn. You’ve been trying to say good-bye for a long time.” He absently rubbed his breastbone. “And now I know…well, I already knew,” he admitted. “You only love me. You’ve been in love with Nick for years.”

She couldn’t speak. The stupid tears started again. Sam cupped her cheek and wiped them away with his thumb. “Quinn, a lot of people live their entire lives without loving someone like I’ve loved you. But I understand why it can’t work. You belong with Nick. But I can’t handle watching it.”

A sob broke through. Quinn choked it back. “Nick’s not going to stay, Sam.” She didn’t want to say this. If he knew, he might not be willing to move on. But she couldn’t help herself. It hurt so much she had to let it out. “He can’t protect me anymore. His job will take him all over the country and he won’t have time for me.”

Sam shook his head wonderingly. “You are the biggest fool I’ve ever met.”

“Hey!”

He cupped her face in both his hands and bent to kiss her softly on the mouth. “I love you. Now get your ass upstairs.”

She hesitated. “Are you coming back to Ohio?”

“I’m going to help Marley get started down here, move her things from Maine. She’s a mess, organizationally. She needs my mad skillz.” Quinn smiled, and Sam looked pleased with himself. “I’ll come out to get my stuff in a few weeks, if that’s okay.”

“I can ship it if you want.”

“No, I want to see everyone at the bar, say good-bye to the clients. But I think it’s best if I wait a little.”

She nodded and stood to hug him again. “Good-bye, Sam.”

“See you later, Quinn.”

He walked her to the elevator, and Quinn wondered if he thought she wouldn’t go upstairs if he didn’t. She might be an emotional wreck but as he’d said, she was strong. She’d get through this all at once, like ripping off a bandage, and move on without regret. Or rather, with tons of regret but equal amounts of determination.

When she got upstairs, though, and let herself into the suite, it was empty. Cleaning services had been in, and there was no evidence of their night together, nor of the attack by Anson prior to that.

He’d done it. Nick had left her, and he hadn’t bothered to say good-bye.

At a knock on the door Quinn spun to open it. Her heart pounded with foolish hope, though she knew damned well it wouldn’t be Nick.

The bellhop motioned behind her. “I came up to get your bags? Your friend is retrieving the car.”

Relief flooded her. He hadn’t left. He might be trying to move things along at top speed, but he wasn’t gone yet.

“I don’t have any bags, but please tell him I’ll be right down.”

The bellhop nodded and backed out. She went into the bathroom to splash water on her face and eradicate the evidence of all her crying. Her eyes were puffy and red, but as she stared at herself in the mirror, she realized they didn’t have to stay that way. With a glimmer of power, they became normal. She ran her fingers through her hair, and it looked freshly brushed. She smiled. Maybe there were some benefits to her new status, however insignificant and hopefully temporary.

She headed back downstairs and turned in her keycard at the desk, then went out through the automatic doors at the front of the building. The Charger, freshly washed in her absence, gleamed in the sunlight. Nick leaned against it, his jeans-clad legs crossed, his leather coat looking even more beat-up and disreputable than ever. But his posture was open, the look on his face enough to stop her breath.

Quinn stepped forward, not sure what was about to happen and afraid of being crushed.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi.”

“The hearing went okay.”

“Sam told me. You going to run for president?”

“Maybe.”

He nodded.

“Barbara told me the need for protectors will be bigger than ever. I suppose you’ll be traveling more. You won’t need to come to Ohio, at least.” She was the only goddess in the state now.

“Why not?”

“Since I leeched Anson, my power won’t wane.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So I won’t need a protector during the new moon.”

“Is that all I am?”

Her heart skipped a beat. Hope came back to dig a furrow though the sorrow. “Isn’t it?”

He blew out a breath and shook his head. “Come on, Quinn. You know I’ve been more than that for a very long time.”

She took a step closer, her entire being lighter, even the uncomfortable power inside flipping joyfully. “I know, but—”

“Do you think I spent as much time with any other goddess as I spent with you?”

“I don’t know.”

He took a deep breath. “My parents didn’t want to retire. My mother insisted they could have it all. They took turns protecting, or left us with our grandmother, and came back to tell us all stories about the noble goddesses who were able to do such amazing things because we let our parents help them. And then they got hurt.”

Quinn swallowed and nodded, confused about what was happening. Nick stared at the cobblestones at their feet, hiding his expression from her.

“My dad could have continued. But my mom was just…so broken.” He straightened and focused his gaze over Quinn’s shoulder now, remembered anguish filling his eyes. “He decided to stay with her, with us. It killed him, so my mother told him to go, but that was worse. So they stopped, and as we grew up and my brothers chased other dreams, it was clear I was going to have to carry on that legacy.”

“It sounds—” She paused to clear her throat. “That was a big burden for a little kid.”

He shook his head. “Not for a second. Until I met you.” Now his green eyes burned into hers. “I swore I’d never do that to someone. Let them do that to me.”

Tears spilled over Quinn’s lashes. She tightened her hands on her elbows to hold herself together. The more agitated her emotions got, the more the power in her swirled and flipped, making her nauseous. “I get it.”

“No, you don’t. Come here.” He raised his arm, wrapping it around her back as she stepped still closer. All the anguish was gone. “I love you, Quinn. I always have, but I wasn’t going to trap you, or be trapped.”

“I wouldn’t have done that to you,” she said fiercely, anger that he thought she would drying up the tears. “I never would have pinned you down, taken you away from the Protectorate.”

“I know. I know. Shh.” He stroked his thumb across her cheekbone, though no more tears had fallen. “It took the leech, the threat against you, to understand what I was doing. I didn’t want you to live that way, but you were anyway. It hurt us both just as much.” His brows dipped low. “I thought Sam would give you what you needed. But—”

Quinn sighed. “You are such an idiot.” So was she, of course, but she wasn’t going to say it out loud.

“But?” A smile flickered at the corners of his mouth, the rest of his features relaxing.

“But I love you.”

“Good.” He breached the inches between their mouths and kissed her with promise. “Partners?”

“What about your job?”

“We’ll work it out.” He tightened his arms around her. “Partners?”

“Partners.” She buried her face in his neck as he held her tightly to him and sighed when he let go.

“I hope you don’t mind driving back to Ohio.” He pulled open the passenger door for her.

“Of course not.” She slid into the car and watched him round the hood and climb in beside her. “You’ll have to fly sometimes.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He put the key in the ignition. “If you say so.” He started the car with a roar and hit the on button for the radio. As he pulled out of the valet circle, the opening strains of AC/DC’s “Back in Black” pounded through the speakers. He turned right onto the main road and headed home.





Acknowledgements

First and most importantly, thank you to my Mini Boot Squad, for all the magic you have brought me since we started back in June 2006. M1, M2, Bix, and Smith, you help me make everything better and, in sharing my journey, enhanced the joy. I don’t want to be a writer without you.

Additional thanks to Lisa Mondello, Ava Quinn, and Jody Wallace for helping me in ways I can never repay. And even greater thanks to Tracy Madison, for reading chapter one over and over (and then the rest of the book!), nursing me through my neuroses, and gushing like a fangirl at appropriate moments. You are a complete gem.

Liz Pelletier has the honor of being the first publisher to ever offer me a contract by phone. Thank you, Liz, for staying up to 3:30 a.m. to read Under the Moon and giving me the opportunity to be part of an amazing company like Entangled Publishing. Thanks, too, for assigning me to Kerri-Leigh Grady. Starting work with a new editor is frightening, but KL, you’ve made this one of the best experiences of my career. Thank you for your insights, your confidence, and your support. You rock.

To Eric Kripke, for helming a television show that sparked my imagination and helped me remember both the new feeling of being in love and the despair of choices too hard to make, so that I could pour them into this book. And finally, to Jason Manns, whose music I discovered when this book was first born, so many years ago. I will always think of honeyed clouds and motorcycles when I listen to you sing.



About the Author

Natalie J. Damschroder writes high-stakes romantic adventure, sometimes with a paranormal bent. Since 2000, she’s published 10 novels, 7 novellas, and 14 short stories, many of them exploring magical abilities, but all with a romantic core. She currently lives in Pennsylvania with her perfect partner of a husband and two daughters who are so amazing, they’ve been dubbed “anti-teenagers.” Learn more about her at her website, www.nataliedamschroder.com, follow her on Twitter @NJDamschroder, or friend her on Facebook at /nataliedamschroder.